Dark Vestige
by wildsky
Summary: Standalone. Companion piece to Dark Sunrise. What becomes of a Carpathian female who never finds her lifemate? Please read and review!


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em (unless they're originals). Please don't sue me. It's **_**so**_** not worth it.**

**A/N: **This is a companion piece to Dark Sunrise.

**DARK VESTIGE**

**Prague, Czech Republic**

Rain fell from the darkened heavens in torrents, drenching the huddled masses as they hurried across Wenceslas Square towards shelter. Wet and miserable, people scurried about, holding umbrellas and newspapers over their heads in futile attempts to stave off the weather.

Only Seraphine strode through the downpour, head up and shoulders back, unconcerned by the storm raging around her. Her palm came to rest over the unique birthmark carried by all members of her bloodline – the small dragon over her left ovary – and felt it burn in warning, her senses picking up on the unmistakable stench of evil in her city.

A vampire was close, searching for his next victim.

The battle-sense of her ancestors was strong in her and she'd learned long ago how to judge the power of her adversaries. She reached out with her mind and almost smiled.

Newly turned and giddy with the rush. An easy lure and an even easier kill.

Seraphine turned into an alley, vanishing into the back streets of Prague like a ghost. She stepped back against a wall, blending into the stone until she almost became a part of it, her presence cloaked as she worked her magic. She was a female Carpathian and as such, she was coveted by the undead – a fact that she'd used to her advantage on more than a few occasions.

Braided ebony hair loosened into flowing tresses while her black leathers transformed into a long skirt and satin camisole. Green eyes became brown as the warrior disappeared within the guise of a helpless woman. She let her barriers slip infinitesimally, allowing a hint of her existence to reach the vampire.

Breadcrumbs leading him to his doom. Why waste time and energy hunting him when she could bring him to her with a minimal effort? She could feel him coming, racing through the storm clouds, seeking her out. Even now, when his soul was gone and a monster remained, living only for the thrill of taking lives, he believed he was not beyond redemption.

Minutes ticked by and Seraphine waited in absolute stillness, hidden in the very fabric of the wall.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle as he materialized at the mouth of the alley, emerging from the rain like smoke. To the human eye, he was beautiful to behold – dark-haired and dark-eyed, his face seemingly carved in the image of Adonis – yet she knew it was a trick not unlike her own. She could see beyond the veil he had constructed. She looked upon the face of evil dispassionately, taking in the rotted skin and jagged, discoloured teeth, the nails that curved into claws.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," he coaxed, scanning the abandoned alley.

She'd become adept at hiding her existence over the centuries. She avoided other Carpathians and killed any vampires she encountered. The dead couldn't talk, after all, and if any humans should happen upon her, she simply removed their memories. To the rest of the world, she was naught but a phantom and this was no different. He would not see her until she revealed herself to him.

"There is nothing to fear, _ma petite_," he cajoled. "I mean you no harm."

With every appearance of hesitation, Seraphine stepped out and allowed the illusion of invisibility to fall away. She looked up at him fleetingly, uncertainly, her eyes darting around for a route of escape.

"Ah," he breathed as he finally saw her. "I am Lorencio de Vargas."

She nodded slightly, trembling slightly as he approached.

"What is your name, beautiful one?" he asked gently, reaching out to touch her cheek. Years of experience gave Seraphine the will to stomach the feel of the undead touching her skin. Even now, when all emotion had faded, it still disgusted her to be so close to such a creature.

"Ariana," she lied softly, glancing up to meekly meet his eyes.

"Tell me, Ariana," he began in his mesmerizing voice, "why are you here all alone in the rain?"

"A hunter…" she breathed, dropping her gaze as she wrapped her arms around herself. "He bade me stay here. He said I would be safe until he'd slain the vampire."

"Hush…" he soothed her, stroking her hair away from her face. "He lies, my lovely. There are no vampires here."

"He says he is my lifemate," she protested weakly. "Why would he lie?"

"He wishes to possess what is not his," he replied smoothly. "No true lifemate would leave such a treasure unprotected… but I will not leave you."

"What if he attacks you?" she asked tremulously, her soft brown eyes enormous with concern. "He's so powerful."

"Do not fear, Ariana," he purred, reaching for her with voice and hand. "You will be mine."

Seraphine gazed defiantly into his eyes, the compulsion embedded in his voice failing to catch her in its grip. His expression darkened in confusion.

"I belong to no-one," she growled and punched through the chest wall, her hand fisting around his heart as his eyes bulged and he began hissing and spitting as he tried to dislodge her, his illusion of beauty faltering. His blood burned her skin like acid but she stood fast and focused all her strength on calling up her power to destroy the abomination.

Some Carpathian women healed the earth. Some healed the sick, giving life while she took it away.

Seraphine purified and she had yet to encounter a vampire that could withstand the force of her gift. White light burst forth from the undead's chest, his body disintegrating into ash from the inside out as the energy burned away the impurities that had consumed his entire being.

When it was over she stood in the alley, her appearance reverting to that of a warrior, staring at the cinders blowing in the cool breeze, dragging in a deep breath to steady herself.

It was getting harder and harder to use her gift.

Seraphine started moving again, rejoining the crowds moving along the boulevard. She glanced at her reflection in the store window as she passed, trying and failing to find some hint of the girl who'd fled the Carpathian Mountains as a mere fledgling, running away from the war that had started the night her parents were taken from her by the machinations of one wizard with dreams of immortality.

Those memories, unlike the others, remained clear as polished crystal.

It had been centuries since she'd danced. As a child, it had been her favourite thing in the world. Now she couldn't even remember how. Like the colours she'd once seen so brightly – the clear blue of the sky, the verdant green of her eyes – they'd paled into grey.

She felt like she was… fading, as if the only thing holding her together was her skin. For years the empty, hollow feeling inside her had been growing stronger but she could still feel, still see the beauty of the colours that surrounded her.

Then one day as the sun was rising she'd dreamed, the vision so powerful it pierced even the sleep of her people, and something within her had shattered. She'd felt the burning on her skin, as if the morning light were eating her alive, and her heart swelled with despair that had not been her own. Anguish had ripped through her, body and soul, tearing at her lungs so she couldn't even scream through the pain.

For the first time since her parents were killed, Seraphine cried, tears of blood tracking their way across her skin. Something in her had died in that moment… something vital that she could never get back. Ever since then, the temptation to meet the dawn had grown increasingly difficult to ignore.

It was like she was being slowly hollowed out and soon she knew that there would be little left except a shell, a shadow of what she had once been.

It was just a matter of time.


End file.
